


Ducks in The Hunger Games

by guiltyaschanged



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Character Death, Child Death, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark, Ducktales AU, Gen, Hunger Games, Inspired by The Hunger Games, Sibling Bonding, The Hunger Games AU, Triplets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltyaschanged/pseuds/guiltyaschanged
Summary: Basically Ducktales characters thrust into the Hunger Games, and Huey and Louie are the last ones standing.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Huey Duck & Louie Duck
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been rewatching/rereading The Hunger Games and this idea popped into my head.

“How lucky are we? Our first year in the bowl is a Quarter Quell,” Louie commented sarcastically. He had been the one to finally break the silence stretching between the three brothers. 

Donald had told them to go get some fresh air before the announcement. They hadn’t really wanted to leave. Their Uncle always got weird when the reapings came, and would probably be even worse now that his nephews had their names entered. 

So, they were left to trek through the narrow streets of District 3. Puffs of smoke from all of the factories polluted the city, always making it somewhat impossible to breath in fresh air. There weren’t many others outside, but the ones the triplets did pass looked rather tense. 

How could they not be? The 200th Annual Hunger Games and 8th Quarter Quell promised to be electrifying. Surely it would be extra cruel for the districts, and exhilarating for the Capitol. 

“Yeah, it’ll be a real show stopper,” Dewey said gruffly.

Huey, who was always one to try and alleviate tension, even in their incredibly dire circumstances, attempted to cheer his brothers up. “We’ll be fine you guys. What are the odds, right?”

Dewey and Louie contemplated this. It was one of the Capitol’s most famous catchphrases;  _ may the odds be ever in your favor.  _

Sure, their names were only in once because they were twelve. That must’ve already put them in a better spot then the other kids of their district. Three names amidst all of the boys. Could such a small number also make it more possible that  _ one  _ of them would be picked?

But the oldest triplet was usually right about the nerd stuff, so they decided to take his word for it. “We should be getting back to Uncle Donald,” Huey suggested. The announcement would broadcast soon.

“I wonder how long he’ll be in his funk,” Louie laughed. “Maybe until the next victor’s crowned?”

“It’s not a funk!” Huey defended their Uncle. 

“Uncle Donald lost Mom. Anyone would be sad if they lost a sibling,” Dewey murmured, uncharacteristically somber. It was a mood he only took on during the Hunger Games. 

“We all lost her,” Louie sighed, perhaps realizing he’d been tactless with his words.

Della Duck had been a young mother. She’d had three eggs at the age of eighteen and was rich in love. Unfortunately, the odds weren’t in her favor and she was reaped for the 188th Hunger Games.

Oh how the Capitol had sympathized with her. Judging from the old footage the triplets had watched, she’d had the aid of many sponsors in the arena. That was because Della had been crafty in her approach, using the incentive of getting home to her boyfriend and kids to win affection. 

Their mother had been quite the fighter, willing to beat every adversity just to get home to her family. And the most agonizing part of the whole story was that she had been  _ so  _ close. She’d placed second. 

Della lost to the District 8 girl by a ruthless machete cutting open her stomach. Della had met her end, never getting to see her own children.

That was what continuously put Donald in a ‘funk’ year after year. He just didn’t want to lose any more of his family to the Games.

Huey, Dewey, and Louie soon returned to their rickety little apartment building crammed in between their neighbors’ houses. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the other inhabitants talking through the walls since they all lived so close together. 

Donald was already hugging his nephews before they were fully through the door. “Boys!” he cried. “You’re safe! You didn’t mess with the Peacekeepers again, did you?”

He was referring to the time (four years ago!) when Dewey had pranked a squad of Peacekeepers by giving them a contraption that shocked them when they touched it. Somehow they’d been fortunate enough to get off with a warning. 

Yet Donald still asked them about it every time they returned home. The boys just thought their Uncle was being uptight. Why would they be flogged for a lighthearted prank?

“No,  _ I  _ didn’t,” Dewey rolled his eyes. 

Donald ushered them to the couch, and the familiar uneasy feeling became visible in each of their movements. He offered the boys some rather unappetizing snacks, sardines on a cracker. 

“Not hungry,” Louie spoke for all of them, his gaze trained on the TV. The Capitol emblem flashed across the holographic screen, with the triumphant music playing along as an accompaniment. 

President Graves came into view as he took his place at the podium. He was a large falcon with dark brown plumage. Compared to the residents of the Capitol, he actually looked quite normal. Like he could live in the districts, but was too good for them since he owned a suit. 

The citizens of the Capitol, who were all different species of birds, were never shy about altering themselves. Many had dyed their feathers with outrageous color combinations. When the camera panned across the crowd it was like seeing a flood of unicorn barf.

“Good evening,” the President began. “We have arrived at the two hundredth anniversary of the Hunger Games. And as we all know, every twenty-five years there is to be a Quarter Quell, a unique version of the Games that serve as a reminder to those in the districts. Tonight we celebrate the Eighth Quarter Quell.”

A thunderous applause composed of whoops and cheers rose up throughout the stadium.

Graves made a show of deliberately opening the decree of the next Quarter Quell slowly. Perhaps it was only because he knew that everyone in the districts was waiting for the verdict with baited breath.

“To remember that even the bond of family was broken when opposing the Capitol, four tributes will be reaped; a pair of brothers and a pair of sisters.”

The Capitol was deafening in their support. How enthralling this must seem to them. How bloody and brutal it promised to be. How  _ entertaining  _ they’d find it to watch siblings murder each other. 

But while the Capitol celebrated, the rest of the country was silent. Donald audibly gasped. The triplets stayed quiet. 

The pieces were beginning to fall into place. Four tributes from each district would mean double the amount of kids to face. Forty-eight tributes. Forty-seven standing in the way of getting home. One of them, your own blood. 

Numbers. So many numbers. Huey, Dewey, and Louie knew that only one of them needed to be drawn for two to be sent to the Games. For the other to be left behind, and become broken just like their Uncle.

They could sit and marvel over statistics all day, deducing that there were still lots of kids in District 3, even when narrowing it down to siblings sets. 

But they still had to accept that the odds had been stacked against them this time.

None of the triplets spoke to each other on the day of the reaping. Donald tried to reassure them that they would all be okay, but they knew he couldn’t know for sure. Their Uncle even accepted that it was best not to talk. As hard as he was trying, whatever he said wouldn’t do much to calm their nerves.

The clock struck noon as Huey, Dewey, and Louie were corralled into a pen with the other children. Boys were gathered in one place, and girls in another. Some siblings were holding each other for dear life, while others stood stoically apart. 

Louie seemed the most scared, and was already shaking. Huey and Dewey stood close and comfortingly pat his back. Beyond the kids stood a wall of adults, anxiously waiting to see if their babies would be returning home to them. A few only-children could even be spotted, but they were few and far inbetween. 

Their district’s escort, Goldie O’Gilt, soon took the stage. Her shimmering green eyes stood out like emeralds amongst the pale, ashen faces of District 3. Goldie quickly moved through the standard announcements, and chose a slip from the girls bowl.

It was unsettling to see that Goldie didn’t find the whole event a bit grim. She was almost  _ excited _ , awaiting the new tributes in anticipation. Of course, that really shouldn’t’ve come as much surprise. Goldie was from the Capitol and would act like it.

A grayish duck named Simmy was the chosen name. She appeared rather emotionless as she clutched onto her younger sister’s hand, dragging her along up the steps.

The younger girl was in hysterics, and looked about thirteen. After some prodding from Goldie, the smaller duck revealed her name was Cinder.

The crowd of girls heaved a collective sigh of relief, thankful they’d been spared for another year and sympathetic to the two chosen for slaughter.

“And now for the boys,” Goldie continued, quickly reaching for a slip in the opposite bowl. She confidently read the name out loud. “Louie Duck.”

Louie made no noise as he staggered back a step. Huey and Dewey momentarily froze up in shock as they processed.

“I’ll go with you,” Huey immediately volunteered himself. 

Louie only stared back at him, wide eyed. The rest of the crowd had realized that triplets had been reaped. They understood that one would be fortunate enough to stay behind. 

Dewey snapped to his senses as he realized Louie was trembling. “I’ll go too. It’s okay Lou, you can stay.”

Louie shook his head, and his words came out in a whisper. “No. You stay, Dewey. I don’t want to watch you guys in the arena.”

Then Louie and Huey were walking up together, hand in hand. And Dewey was left behind to watch his brothers submit to their inevitable deaths. He wondered if he should’ve insisted on taking Huey’s place, but it was already too late for that.

Huey and Louie cast a final glance back at their Uncle, who had pushed towards the front of the onlookers, as if he would be allowed to reach his nephews. His eyes were somewhat glazed, and his beak hung slightly open. This was all unbelievable.

It was the first time Donald Duck had had nothing to say.

“Well, there you have it folks!” Goldie stated after Huey and Louie had told their names. Her tone was nonchalant, as if she could care less about the death sentence she had just dealt four innocent children. “The District Three tributes of the Eighth Quarter Quell!”

Silence met her words as the four tributes stood tall. Dewey realized that Huey and Louie hadn’t once let go of each other.

Before getting on the train, Huey and Louie were allowed a goodbye. They tensely awaited their family. However, it wasn’t Donald or Dewey that came in first, but Boyd.

Boyd appeared as a normal gray parrot, and acted just like a real boy. The triplets always treated him as such. But below the surface, he was a robot, engineered by his father, Gyro Gearloose. 

Gyro never talked to the Duck Family, but Boyd had become a great friend of theirs. 

“Boyd!” Huey exclaimed happily. He’d always been the closest to the parrot. 

“Hello!” Boyd replied cheerfully, leaning in to give them each a hug. “I came to wish you luck.”

“Thank you, Boyd,” Huey told him earnestly. 

“Yes, I will be rooting for you both. But I would advise you to always remember your loyalty to each other while in the arena.”

“Thank you,” Huey repeated. Although he couldn’t imagine ever forgetting. Louie stayed silent, his gaze angled down at the obnoxious blue carpet.

Boyd left and Donald and Dewey burst in. It was then that Louie began to quietly sob. Donald pulled all three of his boys close.

“I’m so, so sorry. I love you,” was all Donald kept saying.

When the family eventually broke apart, Dewey turned to his brothers. It was still out of the ordinary to see the middle triplet so serious because it was a mindset he only adopted during the Games. 

“You’re both really smart. I bet you could win,” Dewey didn’t specify who, and no one wanted him to.

“We are pretty smart,” Louie grinned through his tears.

“Yep. And I’ve always been the dumb one,” Dewey’s chuckle half sounded like a sob.

“You’re not dumb, just gifted in other ways,” Huey interjected. His feathers were still wet with tears, but he was crying the least.

“That’s true,” Louie simultaneously agreed with Dewey.

Donald and his boys sat there for what felt like too short of time. Soon the Peacekeeper’s were breaking them apart, and leaving the boys alone behind a dramatically shut door.

There was nothing to say, so they didn’t talk. The gears were already turning in Louie’s head, mostly about the strategies of past victors. But then he was thinking of how quickly his older brother had opted to join him as a tribute. And his heart sunk as he realized his brother’s true motive. 

“Hey Hue?” Louie murmured. Huey looked up at him expectantly. “Don’t count yourself out of the Games.”

Huey gave a sad smile. “Sure.”

The two brothers glanced away from each other and elapsed back into silence. Perhaps the fact that they’d probably never see their Uncle or brother ever again had finally sunk in. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays!! Also, thank you so much for the kind reviews, I really appreciate it. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy --

The train ride was magnificent. Huey and Louie had never known the landscapes of the other districts were so clean. District 3 was crammed with factories and always carried a dreary mood. 

They both leaned against the wide, rectangular windows, watching the world zoom by in awe. The other two tributes, Simmy and Cinder, were making an effort to ignore them. They probably thought the brothers were being childish. 

Unfortunately, Huey and Louie had to stop watching since their mentors had just arrived. There were two of them, one for each pair, presumably. And Huey recognized them both from the previous years of Hunger Games he always analyzed. In his mind, it was the best way to prepare for the possibility of being reaped. Louie sometimes joined him. Dewey never wanted to. 

The first was a Hispanic duck named Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. Fenton had won by somehow inventing a literal robot to take out his opponents for him. 

His fellow victor and mentor was Gandra Dee. She had been extremely crafty in her Games, hardwiring individual traps all throughout the arena. 

They were among District 3’s most intelligent, and would certainly be valuable as mentors.

“You must be Huey and Louie, yes?” Fenton asked them cheerfully. Huey and Louie didn’t know if they should smile or not. What was happy about where they were going?

“Yeah,” Huey replied softly. “And you’re Fenton, winner of the 193rd Games, right?.”

“That’s right! How did you know that?” Fenton looked surprised and impressed. 

“I’ve, um, always studied the victor’s strategies,” he answered a little sheepishly. 

“Well that’s fantastic! That’ll give you an advantage in the arena, knowing all the possibilities,” Fenton praised. Maybe he was forcing himself to be bubbly to cope with the dire circumstances. 

Huey shook his head, moving closer to Louie. “I guess. But Louie would analyze them too. He’s very good at scheming, so he’ll outsmart everyone easily.”

Louie narrowed his eyes. He really didn’t want Huey to talk him up to their mentor. Especially since what he was saying wasn’t even true; Louie barely looked over the past Games. 

And there was no way Louie could win this thing.

“Ah! You two will make a good combo then. Both being intelligent,” Fenton observed. “I’d ask you your other strengths, but you must still be pretty shocked. Enjoy the luxuries for now.”

Fenton was right, they were definitely astonished that it was them on this train, and not two of the hundreds of other kids instead. Huey and Louie sat back on a mahogany bench, not speaking or even bothering to taste the food. They really weren’t in the mood for conversation. 

Huey couldn’t help but notice that Simmy, Cinder, and Gandra were still intensely talking. When Gandra finally left them alone, she purposely averted her gaze from Huey and Louie. It must’ve been horrific for the mentors to repeatedly watch their tributes die each year. Maybe it was easier to ignore the other tribute they weren’t teaching, that way they didn’t get attached.

As soon as they arrived in the Capitol, both brothers concluded that it was weird. Vibrant, odd talking birds screamed for them, wanting to get a better look. But they were already being ushered away into the tribute center. 

It was all so incredibly insane. They had been in District 3 just that morning, and now they were in the Capitol. Night had fallen, and the room was almost pitch black. They hadn’t wanted to see the glowing lights of the Capitol out the window. 

Thankfully, Huey and Louie had been given a room to share. There were two separate beds, supplied with luxurious comforters, but as soon as the Capitol people were gone, Louie was climbing in to join Huey. 

Huey lifted up the blankets and put his arm around Louie. Louie hadn’t realized his older brother was slightly shaking. 

“We’ll be okay for now,” Louie whispered, all though he didn’t believe it.

“Seven days,” Huey sighed. 

“I wish we could see Dewey and Uncle Donald one more time,” Louie blinked up at the ceiling, his vision beginning to adjust to the darkness. 

“You will,” Huey’s tone suddenly became very confident. 

Louie decided to ignore his brother’s newfound death wish for now, and instead snuggled closer. “I really hate this place. It’s not every day I wish I could go back to living in pollution.”

Huey let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah. We’ll just have to stick close to each other.” 

Louie’s eyelids began to droop. “G’night.”

“Goodnight,” Huey murmured, still wide awake. 

They would be entering the tribute parade in a spark of electricity. Their stylists had dressed them in a very interesting getup composed of real silver wire dotted with tiny little light bulbs. District 5 ought to be jealous. 

The stylists talked in exoctic accents that didn’t sound anything like those of District 3. Louie could distinctly remember one of the stylists commenting, “Oh, this is all just  _ so _ devastating,” referring to the prospect of siblings being thrown into the arena together. Yet her tone had suggested she really thought otherwise. 

As soon as they stepped up onto the chariots and became instantly overwhelmed by the stunning looking career tributes ahead of them and the raging Capitol crowd, Louie reached for Huey’s hand. Huey squeezed back, giving Louie a reassuring smile. 

The jet black horses carried them out along the long road for all to see. The Capitol citizens were cheering, and Louie could feel the blood rushing to his head. The mere sight of President Graves was enough to strike fear into any District person’s heart. 

Triumphant music blared in celebration. “No one’s paying attention to us,” Huey sounded relieved. 

Louie leaned in, still tightly holding Huey’s hand. “I prefer it that way. But this is still the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

In the days that followed, Huey and Louie relentlessly trained. They were very aware of the older tributes looking down on them. Not only for their age but because of their skill choice. District 3 tributes were notoriously tech-savvy and never included in the career pack.

Fenton also spent hours meticulously teaching them how to construct valuable traps. Huey and Louie had been vaguely aware of how to work certain gizmos before, but wouldn’t have really ever specialized in it until they were adults. 

Huey was very talented in survival skills. He already knew how to tie knots and judge if a berry was poisonous or edible, as well as how to build a sturdy shelter. 

Louie was scary good at wielding a knife, and had also found himself having a knack for the bow and arrows. Louie could easily simulate how he could manipulate a tribute in order to stay alive. 

Time was moving entirely too fast for Huey and Louie’s liking. Within two days they’d be in the arena. In the arena with forty-six tributes out to kill them. How could anyone say the odds were in their favor? 

They wouldn’t have to wait very long for their assessment since they were District 3. All though it was interesting to see the different reactions of the surrounding tributes, and the personas they put up as a guard. 

Some were stoic, some appeared entirely too menacing, some didn’t have a care in the world. One pair, sisters from District 7, looked very hostile. The taller one, a duck, seemed a bit more prickly. The smaller one was a lavender hummingbird, and she was very deep in thought. 

Huey and Louie had to observe because they were so anxious. Seeing all of the siblings lined up led them to wonder how quickly some would turn on each other. 

Loyalty never lasted very long in the arena. Would blood relation make any difference?

Louie was called in before Huey since he was reaped first. Louie didn’t really know how to showcase his cunning to the Gamemakers (who were terrifying and somehow looked like dyed marshmallows), so he settled for wiring an explosive to blow. 

During his assessment, Huey put his Junior Woodchuck skills to good use. He effortlessly showed his knowledge in surviving the outdoors. Knowing what natural plants could either kill you or save you was already half the battle. 

Later that night, all four tributes of District 3 gathered with their mentors to view their rankings and scores. Fortunately for Huey and Louie, they’d pleased the Gamemakers. Huey had earned a seven, and Louie an eight.

The highest score of the batch, even beating the career tributes, was the hummingbird from District 7 with an eleven. 

While their mentors were ecstatic, Huey and Louie were incredibly tense as they went off to bed. Tomorrow would be their last night in the Capitol. 

The two brothers sat across from each other, gazing out into the city from the square window in their room. Neither said anything for a moment. 

“Huey. . . maybe we shouldn’t be allies in there,” Louie finally said. It had been on his mind a lot the past few days. 

Huey looked up, startled. “What? Why? That’s illogical for our survival strategy.”

“Because I don’t want to watch you die!” Louie blurted, surprised at how quickly his voice rose.

“Hopefully you won’t have to. Hopefully I’ll be gone just before you can win.”

“And why wouldn’t  _ you  _ win? You’ve got all that Junior Woodchuck nerd knowledge!” Louie argued. “You’d be able to win the Games just by following a textbook.”

Huey watched him sadly. “Doesn’t matter. Besides, you’ve got a silver tongue. You’re cunning enough to escape whatever’s thrown at you.”

Louie felt oddly annoyed at Huey’s insistence in keeping him alive. “Why are you so bent on sacrificing yourself?”

Huey paused, looking away for a moment. “I could never leave that place a victor because it would mean I’d have to live without you.”

“And what makes you think we wouldn’t feel the same about losing you?” Louie shot back, trying to distract himself from emotions.

“You’ll have to,” Huey said bluntly, his expression blank. “We both know only one of us can survive.”

“Fine,” Louie grunted. He never really could get through to Huey when it mattered most. The red triplet could be stubborn when he wanted. 

Although Louie certainly wasn’t agreeing. Two could play at that game.

It was the eve of the 8th Quarter Quell, and the interviews would be beginning soon. Fenton was preparing Huey and Louie on how to sway the audience. 

Huey had always had stage fright, so Louie volunteered to do most of the talking. The youngest triplet knew exactly how to talk his way into the crowd's favor. For Louie, it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Listen, the Capitol loves brutality, but they also recognize intelligence. They won’t count you out if they know how smart you both are. Make sure to play that angle for all it’s worth. Remember that the mind can be as powerful as a fist,” Fenton advised. 

There was definitely some truth to that statement. Of course, the mind couldn’t get you out of a split-second situation, wherein a machete was plunging into your abdomen. 

The tributes were to be interviewed in pairs, most likely to save time. And so the Capitol could get a good look at the families they were slaughtering. 

Huey and Louie entered the stage wearing rather standard tuxedos. To the citizens of the Capitol, they definitely didn’t look like anybody special. If anything, the audience probably pitied them for being only twelve years old.

Roxanne Featherly had been the host for longer than Huey and Louie had been alive. She was known for being condescending, and had platinum blonde hair that always towered above the tributes she was interviewing. 

“District 3 everyone! Huey and Louie Duck!” Roxanne announced, inviting them to take a seat as the audience gave a thunderous applause. 

“Now, tell me boys, how are you feeling? What’s on your mind?” she began. 

Louie glanced at Huey, then started speaking. “Excited. A bit nervous too. Anyone can be beat if you plan it right.” Louie decided to go the confident route, although it was a blatant lie. He was about ready to wee himself in fear.

“O-ho he’s cocky, eh? That’s great. We love having tributes with some attitude! So you’re saying it’s easy to win if you have a plan?”

“Of course. Brains over brawn always holds up. The way I see it, the Games are all about strategy. It takes someone cunning to win.” 

“Yes, yes. Back home in District 3 the whole lot of you are very, mm, techy. And you and your brother are twins-”

“Triplets,” Huey immediately interrupted. Louie didn’t miss the sudden terror in his eyes from speaking on live television. “We have another brother. His name is Dewey.”

“How unfortunate. I’m sure he would’ve loved to be here in your place!” Roxanne laughed, as if what she was saying was a funny joke. “The Games this year have really become a  _ family _ affair,” she grinned in the direction of the closest camera. 

“I-it’s not the first time our family’s been in the Games,” Huey continued.

Louie immediately jumped on that topic. It was perfect! He could definitely work with the family angle. “That’s right. Our mother was Della Duck.”

The whole Capitol seemed to collectively gasp. Somehow no one had realized this before. Luckily for Huey and Louie, the mom factor would definitely help them out, maybe even more than their know how. 

“Della!” Roxanne cried, flabbergasted. “Why, she wanted nothing more than to return home to her loved ones.”

“She never got the chance,” Louie sighed. “And we feel the same way. We’ll stop at nothing to see our family again.” 

Fake tears had sprung from Roxanne’s eyes. “How touching. The sons of Della Duck bravely following in her footsteps, striving to achieve what she never could.” 

Roxanne signaled for Huey and Louie to stand up and face the tear stricken crowd. Bright lights blared into their faces, making the whole stage hot and stuffy. Their story was a goldmine that would surely win them sponsors. 

And Louie had meant what he said. So right then in there, as he faced the Capitol audience, he made a vow to himself.  _ One of us will go home. One of us will go home.  _

He wouldn’t be doing it for those barbaric Capitol citizens and their enjoyment, but for his mother. For Uncle Donald. For Dewey. 

“Now  _ that _ was the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Huey exhaled as soon as he and Louie were behind the stage.

“Nah. I think bringing up Dewey and Mom was a good strategy. We’ll definitely have favor with the Capitol now,” Louie shrugged. 

Huey shook his head. “You’re really good at seeing the angles. I wasn’t even thinking about our strategy. I just didn’t want them to forget about Dewey.”

Louie smiled sadly, turning to see that Fenton was rushing over to join them. “That was brilliant, you two! You’ll certainly stick out now.”

The rest of the night stretched out endlessly. Huey and Louie only felt progressively more nervous and stressed as they watched the other tributes’ interviews. 

The District 7 sisters were called Lena and Violet, as they learned. They especially came off as threatening enough to be on par with the careers. Violet was the one who’d scored the eleven after all, but Huey and Louie had no idea what she’d done to earn it.

What Lena told Roxanne was perhaps the most disturbing. “There’s no room for caring about others in the Games. You just have to kill. Violet and I might even murder each other before everyone else.”

Lena’s tone was sarcastic, but she somehow appeared to be deadly serious. Her younger sister, Violet, was quick with a monotone reply. “I would not be surprised if that were to be the outcome.”

Their words came off as entirely too genuine, and it sent chills down Louie’s back. Among the forty-six other contestants they’d be facing tomorrow, many of them probably wouldn’t hesitate to do the same. 

A few hours later, they were back at the tribute center, now very aware that the Capitol never slept. Because they would need to be transported directly to the arena in the morning, Huey and Louie had to sleep in different bedrooms for the night.

Louie desperately wished they didn’t have to be separated. Louie needed to be with his brother now more than ever. He was most likely going to die tomorrow, and he would never get to see Huey again.

But this was goodbye. 

Unlike their first night here, Louie was the one shaking this time. Huey stayed calm, and pulled Louie into a hug. 

“I love you so much,” Huey whispered. “It’ll be okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Louie trembled as he took a deep breath. “Yeah. See you in the arena.”


End file.
